


Always there

by Darkhorse



Series: Injury and comfort [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Injury, M/M, muscle strain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhorse/pseuds/Darkhorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean is injured and stuck, Javert comforts him</p><p>Return prompt for Chrissy 24601</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always there

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chrissy24601](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrissy24601/gifts).



> For Chrissy24601, as a return prompt treat to her Christmas carol fic

It shouldn't be ending like this. They'd had a wonderful day, and now here they both were, barely half a mile from home, yet completely stranded. Jean simply couldn't take another step forward. Javert drew the other man, his unofficial partner, close, turning his own back to the chill wind in a futile attempt to offer some shelter. They were as one of his sergeant's sometimes said, in a right fix.

The day had started so well, he'd actually managed to get his cases to a point they could be left to Sergeant's for one day, and therefore he could go to Toulon,meet up with Jean, his daughter and her boyfriend. Marius was practically the most annoying company possible, but he could tolerate him for a day, if it meant a day he could spend almost entirely in Jean's company. Those were few and far between. The history at Toulon caught both of them in it's grip, weaving information into their brains. And then it all went wrong.

Jean began to limp, some time after they'd come down from the harbor wall. Not unusual in itself when he started to tire, Javert simply lent him an arm and shortened his stride to accommodate his partner rather than marching on ahead. But gradually, he watched the limp worsen, Jean struggle to take every other step. That most certainly wasn't usual, and nor was the fact that it was his partner's left leg which was playing up, not the right. He led, through the crowds, using his stature to its advantage to make a him over to a bench and made him sit for a while. That seemed helped, when they stood up again Jean walked easier, almost normally save for odd flinches, but then he seemed to stiffened, hobbling worse and worse as the time went on. Javert saw him begin to wince with each movement of the leg, struggling to even summon the energy to move, knowing that only pain would come. He stopped, guiding Jean to another bench  
“You can't go on like this”  
Jean shook his head in agreement, looking worn down and fairly pathetic, a sharp contrast to normal, when he was the comforter of the poor  
“I think we should head home, you're not fit for everything.”  
“We'll have to walk fast, no stopping, it seizes like taunt wire if I stop.”  
He nodded, pulling Jean back to his feet and tugging one of the other man's arms over his shoulder. He had to bend close to double to manage it, walking stooped as he took all the weight he could manage. There were times he hated the height difference between them, and this was one of them. Still he wrapped his other arm around Jean's waist, helping him along as best he could.

The breeze on the lane picked up again and Javert bit back a shiver, reminding himself that Jean was worst off. Poor Jean, who lent against him, not in pain as he stood, oddly enough, but fully aware that he could not move his left leg without a severe dose of it, more than was worth the effort. Javert cursed his own foolishness, he should have got the taxi to take them right to the door of the house, Jean's leg had stiffened too quickly this time and there was no-where to sit, no one to help him carry his partner. That was the other irony, that had it been the other way around, Jean would have simply carried him, yet he for all his height was not strong enough to return the favour.  
Jean's shoulders shook “I want to go home”  
He held him “I know... It's not far now.” Not far, yet it might as well have been the other end of France for the hope they had of getting there  
“I'm cold, I'm tired, my leg hurts and all I want is to get home and warm” Jean began to shudder with sobs “But I can't move...”  
Javert tightened his grip, sheltering him, understanding the hopelessness the other man felt and unable to do much to help. Jean had already had some painkillers, but they hadn't kicked in yet, and now the cold was getting to the older man, the pain had worn down his extra endurance, normally used to keep him sane. No wonder hysteria was setting in, just so long as it wasn't followed by hypothermia. All they needed was some way to get home, but taxi's didn't come down here, so many of the locals just walked. A car.  
Then it clicked, one of his sargeants lived not too far away, two streets at most. He had a car.  
He bent his head to look down at Jean, who was pressed close against him “I'll call Girard, he'll rescue us”  
Jean barely responded, murmuring again “I just want to go home.”  
“I'll get you home.”

He almost carried Jean into the kitchen, but the warmth immediately seemed to have an effect, and, half an hour too late, the painkillers were kicking in. He pushed the other man down into one of the chairs  
“You stay there, I'll find you dinner”  
Jean lifted his head “I'm sorry to be trouble.”  
Javert extracted his head from it's freezer search to answer “You're not trouble, it's whatever wrenched your groin muscle that's trouble. Now stop worrying and just rest.”  
He rightly assumed that Jean was too warn down to do anything but that.


End file.
